IzzyIsTheWorstMemo
CCT RIGHT NOW opened memo on board OHSHITSONITSON. CCT: Balish blinks, groggily waking up and responding to a few pinging messages. CURRENT sanguineOracle CSO RIGHT NOW responded to memo. CSO: ((Libby is currently going to the kitchen to get a couple of drinks)) CURRENT gregariousTroubadour CGT RIGHT NOW responded to memo. CGT: ~"Ah, Baliʃh. Firʃtly, I wovld like to enʃvre yov are in complete poʃeʃʃion of all yovr mental facvltieʃ thiʃ time." Ryʃpor ʃpeakʃ withovt bothering to greet him firʃt, or even make hiʃ preʃence known.~ CCT: Balish glances back, returns to his computing device, then freaks the fuck out, scrabbling for something to wrap up in "SERIOUSLY Ryspor, I'm NAKED here." CGT: ~"I'll take that aʃ a yeʃ, then." Hiʃ face ʃvddenly becomeʃ a maʃk of cool anger. "Moving on to the ʃecond point, then."~ CGT: ((frickle frackle overusing the 'thens' much self)) CGT: ~He leanʃ in a bit cloʃer, and ʃoftly ʃayʃ, "How DARE yov treat Libby the way yov have."~ CCT: Balish sighs, pulling up while readjusting his sheet. "You THINK I'm not AWARE of the situation?" He offers a scowl, glaring. CGT: ~"No, I really think yov aren't. Yov ʃee, in a minvte, Libby'ʃ going to retvrn, and then ʃhe'ʃ going to force herʃelf to vʃe a ʃtim which will eraʃe all feelingʃ of anger and betrayal towardʃ yov, becavʃe ʃhe feelʃ ʃhe can't TRVʃT yov, her partner, the ONLY BEING ʃhe'ʃ ʃVPPOʃED TO TRVʃT!"~ CCT: Balish opens his mouth, then closes it again. "A STIM, are you..." Balish's fists clench, pulling at the sheets. "I'm SORRY I'm not a Twink, Ryspor, I'm SORRY a kismesis HAPPENED too FAST, but you and I BOTH know this is NOT the answer." He begins to stir. "Now, WHERE IS SHE." CGT: ~"Getting drinkʃ, cvrrently, bvt I don't think I'll be letting yov talk to her." He ʃtandʃ. "Pleaʃe don't give me a ʃchpiel abovt how it all 'happened too faʃt', becavʃe qvite frankly I believe that iʃ compete BVLLʃHIT. Yov VʃED her feelingʃ for yov aʃ leverage to enʃvre yovr PRECIOVʃ kiʃmeʃiʃ wovld ʃtay alive." He beginʃ to examine hiʃ fingernailʃ. "Doeʃn't ʃovnd terribly black, really CCT: "Are you SERIOUS?" He growls, creating a tear in his sheet. "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? So TELL me, mister INFINITE WISDOM, would YOU let someone you CARE about just DIE, JUST FUCKING DIE?" Balish's eyes begin to glow, casting an eery light. "I used NOTHING, I asked SOMEONE I cared ABOUT to help ME out saving someone ELSE I care about, but APPARENTLY I can only CARE about ONE person, is THAT how you FEEL Ryspor? Is IT?" He spits out the last word, disgust twisting his features. CGT: ~"I THINK YOV ʃHOVLD THINK LONG AND HARD ABOVT WHETHER OR NOT YOV REALLY *DO* CARE FOR HER! ʃHE HAʃ BEEN CRYING HER GODDAMN *ʃOCKETʃ* OVT EVERY TIME I'VE ʃEEN HER LATELY, BECAVʃE. OF. *YOV*. IF THAT'ʃ HOW YOV ʃHOW AFFECTION, THEN I TRVLY PITY NVLLAR, NOT TO *MENTION* MAENAM!" He iʃ halfway to ʃcreaming at thiʃ point, face bright pvrple and fiʃtʃ clenched in anger.~ CCT: Balish crosses his arms. "So, WHAT, just NEVER feel for anyone, NEVER fill another quadrant? I DO care about Libby, I NEVER want to see her HURT, I want to ALWAYS protect her... She's my Matesprite, you should KNOW." Balish bites his lip, looking away. "I KNOW I'm poison, I KNOW I'm TRASH, is THAT what you want to hear? I'm TRYING but I FEEL for Libby, and DIFFERENTLY for Nullar, and DIFFERENTLY for Maenam. WHY, do you feel the SAME for Jossik as Libby?" CGT: ~"Vgh, no, of covrʃe not, bvt I hardly ʃee how that'ʃ relevant, conʃidering yov have not been acting like a proper partner by any ʃtretch of the imagination, let alone a mateʃprit. Yov can't wave that off with the excvʃe of being 'traʃh'!"~ CCT: Balish covers his eyes with a hand. " ACT like a Proper Partner, you SAY, but WHAT, you don't think I've been TRYING? Do you have ANY IDEA how hard I TRY? How MUCH I can't PSYCOLOGICALLY understand? Could YOU do this, Ryspor? Could YOU take yourself and CUT OFF from EVERYONE else?" CGT: ~He pavʃeʃ, and conʃiderʃ the qveʃtion, finally anʃwering, "If it meant happineʃʃ for my ʃignificant other then...yeʃ. Yeʃ, I covld."~ CCT: He shakes his head. "I don't BELIEVE you. I LOVE Libby, more than ANYTHING, but I feel different feelings toward OTHERS. And that is HURTING Libby, I know. I'm POISON to her, and she would be BETTER OFF never meeting me." CSO: You hear the door shut, and Libby is standing there, two glasses in one hand, and a pitcher of ice water with some sort of fruit sliced up in it. "Ahem." CGT: ~Ryʃpor beginʃ to panic ʃlightly. "Libby, ahaha, we, we were merely, merely having a, a friendly, haha, chat..." He ʃighʃ. "...Yov're not bvying thiʃ, are yov."~ CCT: Balish spins around, eyes wide and tears welling up from behind his hand, but balks, opening then shutting his mouth in an awkward finish. CSO: Libby sets the glasses on the bedside table. "I'll let you two hash this out, then. I'll be in my lab upstairs." She turns, heading for the door. CCT: Balish stalks afterward. "No. He TOLD me what you are DOING. I'm NOT going to let me ruin you any FURTHUR." CSO: Libby sighs tiredly. "Not right now, Balish. I'm not doing that right now." CCT: Balish flinches back, lowering his hand. "I just... I can't STOP you here can I?" He asks, glaring at the floor. CSO: Libby sighs again. "Would you two like to have this argument with me right here, then?" CCT: Balish glances at Ryspor. "I would LIKE it." CGT: ~Ryʃpor jvʃt ʃort of danceʃ nervovʃly in the corner, vnʃvre of what to ʃay or do.~ CSO: Libby nods. "Then let me sit down." She heads over to the bed and crawls up to the headboard, taking a pillow and cluthing it to her chest. CGT: ~"...Right, ah, we were at 'better off never meeting me', were, were we not?" Ryʃpor continveʃ to ʃhoot nervovʃ glanceʃ at Libby every ʃo often, bvt retvrnʃ to looking angrily at Baliʃh nonetheleʃʃ.~ CGT: ((my wifi may cut out in a minute so be prepared)) CCT: Balish sighs, sitting down facing away from the two. "I don't KNOW what to say that I already haven't SAID. I DO believe there is OTHER options, YES, but... It's OUT of my hands. I can't CONTROL anything anymore." CSO: Libby remains silent, allowing the two to argue. CGT: ~"Well, if yov ʃay that, then it'ʃ certainly ovt of yovr control. Yov only have aʃ mvch control aʃ yov believe yov have. Talk to her abovt it! Don't let it bvild vntil-" He ʃtopʃ. "Gog DAMN IT ʃHE'ʃ IN THE ʃAME ROOM AND I'M *ʃTILL* VNINTENTIONALLY FLAVNTING MY PALE PROMIʃCVITY AROVND LIKE IT'ʃ THE NEXT BIG THING!" He growlʃ in frvʃtration. "Yov know what, yov two can work thiʃ ovt TOGETHER. I w forced into ʃome ʃtrange grey-pale qvadrant miʃhmaʃh." He flopʃ down onto the bed. "...I'm ʃtill ʃvperviʃing, however."~ CCT: Balish rolls his eyes. "That CCT: 's a NICE and MATURE move." CSO: Libby sighs. "No, you're not supervising, Ryspor. Not between Balish and I." She sighs. "No one and nothing is supposed to come between partners. I wont have you here supervising our arguments like a dorm-tender, or you'll be as bad for us as Nullar." CGT: ~Ryʃpor lookʃ abovt to proteʃt, then acqvieʃceʃ. "All right, I ʃvppoʃe that'ʃ reaʃonable." He hoiʃtʃ himʃelf vp and walkʃ ovt of the room. "I'll be in my room regretting my horrid tendency to pity every living creatvre that croʃʃeʃ my path if anyone needʃ me."~ CSO: Libby shakes her head. "No you don't, Ryspor. You're my Moirail. You are going to stay and stand up for me when he makes me cry again." CCT: Balish fusses with his hands. "Nullar is NOT between us, from MY perspective. It's DIFFERENT for you, that's CLEAR... And it SEEMS even ANOTHER of my species can't EMPATHIZE with me." CGT: ((fuckin wait your turn balish)) CCT: ((Type faster)) CGT: ((typing as slowly as possible)) CGT: ~Ryʃpor grinʃ ʃlightly. "Yov can covnt on me for that mvch, at leaʃt." He cloʃeʃ the door qvietly behind him.~ CCT: He leans forward, putting his weight on his knees. "TELL her what you said to ME. About SOMEONE you care about." He growls, hair falling over his eyes. CGT: ~"I..." Ryʃpor gvlpʃ, and lookʃ firmly at Baliʃh. "I ʃaid that, that y-yov ʃhovld conʃider the fact that ʃhe iʃ not happy with the way thingʃ are, and if yov trvly care abovt her yov will talk abovt it with her." He lookʃ deeply vncomfortable, and hopeʃ fervently Baliʃh won't bring vp the other part of what he ʃaid, or hiʃ ʃlight tweaking of the meʃʃage of hiʃ angered diatribe.~ CCT: "NO, you SAID you could DO it, YOU SAID if you felt FLUSHED for someone you could deny all OTHER feelings." He clenches his jaw. "DESPITE having both a moirail AND a matesprite." He grumbles softly. CGT: ~"Well, Joʃʃik haʃn't AʃKED me to do anything like that, whereaʃ Libby haʃ made it VERY CLEAR ʃhe iʃ EXTREMELY VNCOMFORTABLE with the idea of qvadrantʃ."~ CSO: Libby tightens her grip on her pillow. CCT: He nods. "But you CAN see yourself IN the situation, you CAN limit yourself to ONE." CGT: ~"Well, yeʃ, if Joʃʃik had made it clear at the beginning of ovr relationʃhip that he wanted that, then I wovld moʃt definitely try my very hardeʃt."~ CCT: "And I DID, I TRYED to wait, but Nullar was... PUSHED to making a decision, DESPITE not knowing the situation. I've tried not ACTING on my hate, YES, but..." He shrugs, "I've been FIGHTING against instict all my LIFE and now it SEEMS I am finally SLIPPING." CSO: Libby buries her face in her pillow. CGT: ((do you know it is very hard to think of a response that doesn't sound overwhelmingly pale)) CCT: ((not MY problem)) CGT: ((nyehh)) CSO: ((go for it. Libby's asked you, as her moirail, to advocate for her here. You can get away with shit)) CGT: ((it's hard thinking of a response at all really)) CGT: ~Ryʃpor worriedly lookʃ over at Libby. "Are yov all right? Yov don't have to ʃtay if yov don't want to."~ CGT: ((DEFLECTION BEAM AWAYYYY)) CCT: "Libby, I have MADE my feelings CLEAR. I wish to spend ETERNITY with you, but I KNOW I also can't give you what you WANT. CSO: Libby mumbles into the pillow. CGT: ((don't be waiting on me here this is your guys' moment)) CCT: He moves his hand to his face. "You can't TAKE the black stim. You can't LOSE yourself because of the DISEASE that is me. So I can ONLY see VERY FEW options." CSO: Libby carefully takes the pillow and sets it aside. "You may go, Ryspor. i will handle this myself from here." CGT: ~Ryʃpor nodʃ, and getʃ vp to leave, ʃhooting one laʃt warning glare at Baliʃh before exiting the bedroom.~ CGT: ((FO REALZ THIS TIME)) CCT: "A REAL moirail would STAY." He mumbles downward. CSO: Libby coughs irritably. "And a real matesprit would give a damn about his significant others feelings before confirming quadrants."